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"Old Friends" by herdygerdy
The figure did not linger in the streets of Neovia, as the thick night fog curled around her dark robe. She was bundled up tight against the night air, a hood hiding much of her face. Her movements were deliberate, but rushed. She did not wish to be caught here, of all places. Too many people. Too many chances for everything to go wrong. She crossed the bridge and made her way up the hill to the graveyard. Away from the water, the fog began to clear slightly, and the fear of the night drew back slightly. Not so far from here, and not so long ago, she had plotted terrible things. The touch of the headstones brought back delightful memories.

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